


my name on your lips

by often_adamanta



Series: 12 in 12 Challenge [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Food, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hypervigilance, M/M, Nightmares, Nonbinary Character, Prosthesis, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 09:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7354459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/often_adamanta/pseuds/often_adamanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky can tell it’s going to be a bad night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my name on your lips

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like _the entire world_ could use a little comfort at this point, so I wrote some fluff to do my part. 
> 
> Notes at the end have more information about the nonbinary gender identity in this fic and how it's written.
> 
> Thanks to [Chaneen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/chaneen) for reading this over on short notice. You're the best! :D

Bucky can tell it’s going to be a bad night. They don’t even try to sleep, and they leave the arm off. They like that they can choose whether or not to wear it now, and they need the reminder tonight that they’re safe here at home, a talisman against the tension they can feel weaving its way up their spine. 

It’s impossible to sleep when they get like this, so Bucky doesn’t try. Instead, they curl up in the overstuffed chair in their room and try to breathe through the feeling. It’ll pass. 

They manage to stay calm as the hours slip by, waiting for morning, until a faint sound catches their attention. Their pulse ticks up, and they tilt their head, straining to listen. 

“Bucky!” Steve shouts, muffled through the walls, and they’re out of the chair and moving before they can think, running on silent feet into the hall. They stop short outside the door as Sam’s soothing voice breaks through their awareness before they burst in the room. 

Steve replies, too low for them to make out the words, but Bucky can tell from the tone and cadence that he’s not in danger. It was a nightmare, nothing more. 

They turn around and go into the kitchen instead, tiles cold against their bare feet. They get out the milk and a sauce pan, stove clicking as the burner lights, and heat up the milk, stirring constantly. Finally, they add the chocolate and watch it melt, dark swirls that dissolve and turn the milk a creamy brown. They pour it into a mug and carry it back to Steve’s bedroom. 

They open the door but stay in the doorway. Sam is lying prone, too accustomed to interrupted sleep and already drifting back off, while Steve sits on the edge of the bed and rubs his hands over his eyes. Steve looks over and waves them in, mouth quirking up but failing to smile. 

Bucky comes in and hands him the mug of hot chocolate. “Thanks,” Steve breathes out, keeping his voice low so that he doesn’t disturb Sam any more than he already has. 

Bucky sits next to him, close enough for their knees to brush, and Steve sips at the hot chocolate, wrapping both hands around the steaming mug. Steve’s on their left side, and they feel conscious of the lack of a limb suddenly, unable to wrap an arm around Steve’s shoulder and comfort him. Then again, they probably wouldn’t have had the courage to do that anyway. 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says, whisper quiet to match Steve. 

“What for?” Steve asks.

They shrug. With Steve, it’s never simple enough to have one easy answer, and it’s hard enough to sort out in their own head, let alone explain it. Maybe it’s the fact that they can’t tell if Steve’s nightmares are for them or of them. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Steve asks. 

Bucky shakes their head, hair falling into their eyes. 

Steve sets the mug on his nightstand. “C’mere,” he says, sliding back into bed and pulling Bucky down after him. There’s plenty of room, especially with Sam rolled up on the edge of the other side, and Bucky allows Steve to arrange them on their back and then curl up next to them on his side. 

Steve puts a hand over their heart and rubs his thumb slowly back and forth, back and forth. “I’m the one who’s sorry,” Steve says finally, “You shouldn’t have to hear me call out your name like that. It’s not on you.” 

Bucky turns their head to look at Steve and raises an eyebrow, but Steve keeps his gaze on where his hand is still stroking a steady rhythm against Bucky’s skin. They don’t feel like going another round with Steve about guilt and blame, so they take a different tack and say, “It’s about me.” 

“Fair enough.” Steve frowns, the lines between his eyebrows deepening. “I dream about,” he begins, but Bucky cuts him off. 

“Steve,” Bucky says and reaches over to rest their hand on Steve’s side. They feel the reassuring pressure against their palm as Steve’s ribs rise and fall with his breathing. “You don’t have to tell me.” 

“No, you’re right,” Steve says, “It affects you.” He tries for a smile again, but it falls flat this time, too. “The details change, but it’s always the same dream. I lose you again and again and _again_.” 

Bucky swallows, but their voice still comes out rough. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“I know,” Steve says, but his voice shakes. He lets out a slow, deep breath. “That mean you’re gonna sleep tonight?” he asks, pressing gently, a silent plea for Bucky to stay. This time his grin is genuine, if small. 

That hadn’t been what Bucky meant by here, but, “Yeah,” they agree and shift a little closer so that their cheek rests against Steve’s hair. They’d have agreed and stayed for Steve either way, but they’re even telling the truth. Their muscles feel loose, as if the danger their body had been braced for was Steve’s nightmare, and now that it’s past, they can relax. 

Or maybe it’s just the weight of Steve’s body against them, warm and solid. They’ll have to test that. 

“Sam gonna mind?” Bucky asks, curious even if they have no plans to move either way. 

“If it means we all actually sleep? Properly?” Steve snorts, a hitch of breath that Bucky can feel more than hear. “He’ll be thrilled.” 

“Thrilled to have me in his bed? I’ll have to tell him you said so,” Bucky murmurs. 

“Don’t put me in the middle of that,” Steve warns. 

“This time you put yourself in the middle,” Bucky says, “Literally.” 

Steve laughs quietly into Bucky’s shoulder, enough to shake the bed. 

“Whassit?” Sam says, words slurred into his pillow. 

“Shh, Sam, it’s nothing,” Steve says, a touch louder so that Sam can hear him, “Go back to sleep.” 

Bucky grins and can’t help but add, voice saccharine sweet, “Yeah, sweetheart, it’s bedtime.” 

There’s a long pause where the only sound is Steve laughing even harder, tucking his face into Bucky’s shoulder to muffle the sound. 

“I dunno what they’re doing in here, and I don’t care,” Sam says, and he’s trying to sound grumpy, but Bucky can hear the smile in his voice, “As long as everyone’s sleeping.” 

“Yes, sir,” Steve and Bucky chorus in accidental unison. Steve laughs again. 

Sam groans and rolls over until he’s wrapped up in all the blankets and pressed against Steve, back to back. Bucky could touch him if they stretched their hand out any further, poke his ribs and make him jump and yell.

They don’t, though, because Sam’s proximity knocks the last bit of tightness out of Steve’s body. 

Sam is asleep again almost instantly, and soon Steve is snuffling against their collarbone, the faintest hint of a snore. Steve’s probably going to drool on them, too, and they’ll definitely have to give him shit about that later.

For now, they keep their promise and stay right here and sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky is nonbinary in this story and uses they/them pronouns. Steve and Sam are aware of this and use the correct pronouns. 
> 
> In fact, Bucky's identity is not commented on in the story in any way. This is a deliberate choice. Just like not all stories with gay characters need to be a coming out narrative, not all stories with nonbinary or genderqueer characters need to be about or make a big deal of their gender. 
> 
> One final disclaimer: I'm a ciswoman and thus have no lived experience with being nonbinary.


End file.
